History Belonged to Two Sisters
by Irhaboggles
Summary: Frex and Melena tell young Elphaba and Nessa about their early years in Munchkinland before revealing the story behind Elphaba's name. During the stories, both Elphaba and Nessa realize that history belongs to them. By their names and families, history is theirs to claim. Then by destiny and action, it will be their to create as well one day.


"I have managed to rustle up a small congregation today," Frex said breathlessly as he walked in through the door. Melena sighed unhappily but said nothing as her husband continued to grasp at straws, trying desperately to sound as if he were finally getting somewhere with his Ministry, even though the entire household knew it wasn't true. They had been in Quadling Country for five years now and Frex's Ministry was as small as ever. But Frex remained insistent that things were finally looking up, though not even _he _seemed to believe it. But there _was _one member of the Thropp family who seemed to at least have a hope for Frex, even if she didn't really believe that things were getting better either. This one faithful member was Nessarose. She became animated in her father's presence and looked up at him with wide, interested eyes.

"How many people came to the sermon today, Papa?" she asked politely and Frex, pleased that at least _someone _seemed genuinely interested in his stories, obliged to answer. Melena, meanwhile, only heaved another resigned sigh. Elphaba made no move at all, hardly even reacting to her father's presence as he returned home. Melena shot her a look out of the corner of her eye and gave the girl the barest of smiles. Their mutual distaste for Frex's avid preaching was one of the few things they could bond over, even if Elphaba only listened to her mother rant rather than offering up any complaints herself. Though that was sort of the way Melena liked it. She liked to be able to rant every once in a while and not have anyone else speak. Were Elphaba to one day start adding her own input to the conversation, good or bad, Melena was certain that she would enjoy talking to (not _with_) her older daughter a little less.

So for a time, while Elphaba and Melena remained silent and still, Frex gave Nessa the report. Once he was done, Nessa begged for more.

"Tell me what it was like in Munchkinland, and why we left," she implored, then the air suddenly became tense. That steady, if not comfortable, aura Frex had generated while talking to Nessa about his sermon (with Elphaba and Melena occasionally listening in before drifting back out into their own little worlds) went away. It was replaced by an urgent, uncomfortable, private feeling that was thick with buried secrets and dark pasts.

"Munchkinland was… tumultuous. It was broken and beautiful all at once," Frex said at last, slow and cautious. Nessa leaned in a little closer, intrigued by this other world she had never seen for herself, except in stories and faded memories. Even Elphaba finally raised her head to listen in. Even though she had a few memories of Munchkinland, it was still very foggy for her since she had been but an infant when she moved away. Additionally, Frex's hushed and almost frightened tone intrigued her. She wanted to know more about her and her family's past, and why it seemed so dark, twisted and controversial. And even Melena listened in, simply longing to be anywhere else other than Quadling Country.

"Your mother grew up in Colwen Grounds," Frex began, looking at Melena. She nodded but said nothing. "She was the Eminent Thropp, next in line to lead Munchkinland, but she chose to give the position up."

"What? Why?" Nessa exclaimed, turning around to look at her mother in disbelief.

"I was never one for fancy titles or positions," Melena replied with a dry smile that seemed to say _"Oh, but how I regret giving it all up now!"_

"But still, why give it up?" Nessa asked, tilting her head. She could not fathom why anyone would give up a throne for a swamp.

"Because of your wretched father," Melena answered, that dry smile turning into a glare, but even though it seemed genuinely accusatory, the Thropp children could sense that Melena was still not entirely angry with Frex, even though she may have pretended to be…

"We fell in love when we happened to cross paths near Colwen Grounds," Melena continued. "He promised me a life of adventure, success and salvation. He swept me off my feet and I allowed him to carry me away from my stifled life on the throne, and I wound up joining him in this stinking pit!" she spat, but even by the end of her little story, there wasn't much venom in her voice. It was clear, to the children at least, that even if a part of Melena was still angry at Frex for causing her to give up a much nicer life than the one she used to have, there was a small part of her that still loved the man, mad though he was. After all, like Melena herself had said, it had been _she _who had fallen for _him_, seduced by his moving words and powerful speeches and promises. She was drawn to the life of adventure he was offering.

It was one thing that still sort of bound them together even after all this time: their restless spirits. Even if they were vastly different, they were both united by their desire for something _more_, something _bigger_, something beyond their normal scale and something that would matter later on in the pattern of the grand design. It was part of the reason why Frex was such a zealot. What the Unnamed God offered him filled him with life and passion and purpose. Likewise, although Melena had never been very religious, that fire in the younger Frex's eyes had enchanted her and she wished to steal some of it for herself, falling in love with him and running away with him.

That fire had since died in the more recent years, starting with his failure to defeat the Clock of the Time Dragon in Rush Margins, but both of them were still clinging to their dreams, threadbare though they were. Even if both Frex and Melena knew their causes were lost, Frex continued to fight for his God and his belief in that Higher Power's promised land. Melena, meanwhile, still continued to crave adventure. Even in her lowest moments (physically, mentally and emotionally) that spark in her soul continued to burn and she still sought out passion and scandal wherever she could just because she needed that rush in order to feel truly alive again and both she and Frex were willing to continue to chase after broken dreams in order to get it. They were eerily well-matched.

"We moved to the edge of Rush Margins after that," Frex continued the story. "I had only ever been passing through Colwen Grounds."

"Why not stay?" Nessa asked. She still could not see why her parents would forsake such a position of power and ease if it was within their grasp.

"The high life was not for me either," Frex replied with a rueful smile of his own. "I have always been drawn towards the broken and downtrodden, the poor and despairing. Even though I could've very well evangelized to the rich and powerful, I did not want to. They were not the crowd I was drawn to. I was drawn to those on the lower end of society. It was they who needed my help the most, so it was they who I wanted to serve…"

"And look where that has gotten us," Melena snarked, but Frex ignored her to continue the story.

"I passed through Colwen Grounds when your mother and I met. She saw something in me that was worth loving. She came to adore me and my cause and became willing to fight by my side."

"Oh, don't romanticize it so much, dear," Melena muttered. "It was the biggest and most embarrassing mistake of my life!" she added, though she spoke too softly for anyone to hear.

"So she came away with me to Rush Margins where we had lived ever since. I would go and preach while she would tend the house. It was a simple life, but we were both happy. And in those days, I had a much larger congregation at my church. I preached and the people would listen."

"What happened for all of that to change?" Nessa asked, sensing where this story was going. Elphaba still had not said a word but had since moved closer to her sister's side, listening attentively to Frex's story with deep, pensive eyes.

"Temptation wrought devastation upon Munchkinland," Frex replied with a broken, hollow sigh. Melena rolled her eyes. Even now, her husband could be so dramatic at times! "The Clock of the Time Dragon," he said, speaking as if the name alone were poison in his mouth. "That cursed Clock and its false prophecies and idols swayed my congregation. My witless flock were seduced by the dragon's shining scales and false miracles. It was all mere tiktokism! Foolishness! A sham! A lie! Smoke and mirrors! A man behind the curtain! But still my flock believed. They were scattered by the dragon's deceit and I failed to protect them from sin as any Good Shepherd should. We were run out as punishment."

For a moment, neither Frex nor Melena spoke, remembering that day with painful and hideous clarity, not just because it was the start of their fall from grace, but because it had also been the day of Elphaba's birth, and neither of the wished to tell her the many theories they had cooked up in response to her being born right after Frex's fall from grace and the arrival of that evil, insidious Clock.

"But then things got better," Frex continued, face softening. "We met a man, a Quadling, named Turtleheart…" and at the sound of his name, Melena's face softened too, both she and her husband feeling a soft wave of grief for the fallen man filling their hearts.

"He came to stay with us," Frex said. "He was on his way to the Emerald City from Quadling Country in order to speak on behalf of his people, but he got lost and, perhaps by the grace of the Unnamed God, wound up on our doorstep. He became our friend, in time, and he gave us a new purpose in life. We were rejuvenated by his mission and we chose to move down south in his honor."

"You were trying to help the Quadlings for him," Elphaba said. It was not a question, but Frex nodded anyway. "Because something bad happened to him…" Elphaba continued, then both Frex and Melena's faces darkened. Elphaba had only been three at the time of Turtleheart's murder, and Nessa had still been in the womb, so for Elphaba to remember enough to say that "something bad had happened to him" was a little more than unsettling. Elphaba's eerily keen memory was cause for amazement and fear both, but this time, it was more on the latter side of things.

"How much do you remember?" Melena finally asked, as gently as possible.

"Not much," Elphaba admitted softly. "I only remember you taking us away faster than you thought you would. Those people from town came to our home and you had us leave that very night. I don't remember seeing Turtleheart, but I don't think I need to in order to know what happened…"

Another somber silence settled over the family before Frex finally found the strength and courage to speak again.

"You are right, Elphaba. The people of our town were not happy with us, and so they came to punish us. We were able to make it out ok, but not Turtleheart," once again, grief lined Frex and Melena's faces.

"And you've been here ever since," Elphaba said with an eerie frankness. "You've been trying to finish his good works to honor his memory, and you have been trying to gain forgiveness for what happened that night when he was taken from us because you feel responsible for it."

"Let us speak no more of this, Elphaba," Melena muttered, stomach churning as she bade for Elphaba to be silent. Thankfully, Elphaba obeyed.

After yet another silence, it was finally Nessa's turn to speak up.

"Well, I think you did a good thing, coming here to try to help Turtleheart and his people. I'm sure the Unnamed God would be pleased with what we have done and sacrificed. We're making good in His name, what could be more honoring than that?" she said, trying to encourage her father. It worked, and Frex managed another weak smile. There was a reason Nessa was his favorite child, after all. Though she was but five, she sometimes spoke with wisdom beyond her years. But that was because, like Elphaba, she _was_ much smarter than the average little kid.

Although no one else knew it, Frex's story had stirred something deep within Nessa, and she found herself fixated upon the idea of doing good works and bringing salvation to an oppressed people. The only difference was that though her father had chosen to stand by the marginalized, Nessa began wondering what it would be like to try to instigate change from a higher position. She wondered if things wouldn't go better if they were able to reclaim Munchkinland and try to change things from the top down rather than the bottom up. If she were on the throne, she had no doubt that she could fix things. All she needed was the chance. Frex had lost his, but she was determined not to lose hers. Even if Elphaba seemed like the one destined for a greater (but not necessarily better) future, Nessa certainly wasn't slated for a normal life either. Instead, it seemed as if history belonged to two sisters, not just one girl…

The family fell silent once more. Frex reflected upon his life, mourning the fact that his failures now outweighed his successes by an alarming amount. Melena reflected upon her life too, wondering how she could've fallen so far from the high society she used to live in, and yet still be a little bit in love with her useless, feckless, success-less oaf of a husband. Nessa, meanwhile, continued to wonder what it would be like to change the world from a position of power, rather than from the low-tier of a preacher's podium. And Elphaba could only wonder what Frex must've been thinking when he sent himself into this self-imposed exile after Turtleheart's death. It was a noble decision, no doubt, but foolish too. Would this self-imposed exile really help or heal anything? Turtleheart was still dead, Frex was still miserable and forgiveness was unattainable, so what was the point? What was any of this for, and was any of it worth it? These were questions none of them had an answer to…

But in time, the family finally started making its way to bed. Frex went to bed first, leaving Melena to tuck in the kids.

"Do you think we'll ever go back to Munchkinland?" Nessa asked as Melena helped her into bed.

"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know," Melena replied with a sigh.

"Do you think father will ever get better?" Elphaba asked next, tucking herself in.

"From what?" Melena asked back.

"From everything," Elphaba replied with a shrug. "Turtleheart, his Ministry, Unionism in general…"

"Elphaba!" Melena chided gently, though she privately agreed with Elphaba that Frex certainly had a lot to get over and work on about himself, and perhaps Unionism was one of those things, but suggesting that to Frex would be as mad as trying to convince Elphaba to hop into a lake. Water would kill Elphaba's body, giving up Unionism would kill Frex's soul. Neither of them wanted that. But as Melena thought about this, she found it funny to think that they had named Elphaba after a saint heavily associated with water…

"Girls," she suddenly said. "Do you know where Elphaba got her name?"

"No," two voices replied in interested unison. As strange as the Thropp children might've been, even _they_ still enjoyed story time and were always eager for more, even though Frex had given them a long one not five minutes ago.

In response to their excitement, Melena chuckled softly, a rare rush of maternal affection for _both_ of her daughters washing over her. She gestured for Elphaba to join her and Nessa on Nessa's bed. For once, Elphaba obliged, some of her burgeoning emotions and affections finally displaying themselves as she almost happily ran over to her mother and sister. In another and even rarer display of affection, Elphaba even pressed up against Nessa and allowed Melena to hold them both. It was a far cry from how Elphaba had been as an infant.

"Elphaba was, if you can believe it, named after Sister St. Aelphaba," Melena began.

"I'm guessing Papa gave me the name?" Elphaba couldn't help but ask dryly and Melena nodded, giving a dry laugh of her own.

"But what's so important about it is who Sister St. Aelphaba was," Melena explained. "She was a Munchkinlander mystic, six or seven centuries ago. She wanted to pray, but she was of such beauty that the local men kept pestering her for-attention. To preserve her sanctity, she went into the wilderness with her holy scriptures and a single bunch of grapes. During her time away from society, and lost in the wilderness, she came upon a huge waterfall coursing off a cliff. She claimed it as her own and walked right through the screen of pounding water." Melena said.

In response, Elphaba cringed slightly, horrified at the idea of walking through water so easily. Melena squeezed her a little tighter and Elphaba, for the first time ever, squeezed back, both reaching out for Melena's comfort and allowing her to know that it had been received.

"For centuries, Sister St. Aelphaba lived behind that waterfall, reading her holy book and pondering spiritual matters. She emerged only when she had eaten her last grape, and when she returned to society, they recognized her and built a chapel in her honor. She blessed the children and the elderly, and heard the confessions of the middle-aged, and healed some sick and fed some hungry, that sort of stuff, and then disappeared behind the waterfall again with another bunch of grapes. And that's the last anyone has seen of her."

"So did she never come out again?" Nessa asked, voice hushed with awe.

"Not yet," Melena replied with a mysterious smile. While Nessa looked thoroughly fascinated by the story, Elphaba found herself more interested in the good woman herself, the mystic and the recluse, who had disappeared to pray behind a waterfall.

"Why did Papa choose to name me after _that _saint?" Elphaba couldn't help but ask.

"Well, for one, he wanted a child with a religious name," Melena couldn't stop a scoff from entering her voice.

"Wait, but _my _name isn't religious, is it?" Nessa interrupted, sounding disappointed that she hadn't been named for something her father had liked.

"That's because _I_ got to choose your name, since he chose Elphaba's," Melena answered with a smirk. "I thought that I'd choose something nice and pretty, elegant and refined. Nessarose. Nessa. Rose. See? It even sounds lovely and fancy, doesn't it? It's a silky and flowery name."

"Hmmm, I suppose!" Nessa replied, looking cheered up as she listened to her mother compliment her "high-society" name. Neither of them realized that the implication of Melena's opinions on Nessa's name meant that they might've thought Elphaba's name sounded clunky and ugly.

"But the second reason is because Aelphaba, in particular, was something of an inspiration to your father," Melena continued. "Even though there are many Unionist saints, Aelphaba is one of the most successful, as well as the most pious. I think your father admired her dedication to the Unnamed God, and how successful she was in the short time she reemerged from the waterfall before going back once more to the Other Side in order to commune with the Unnamed God again…" even if Melena did not consider herself very religious, even _she _could understand the mystic and otherworldly appeal of Aelphaba's story.

"But even more than that, there was a little-known hymn written both to and by Aelphaba that enchanted your father too!" said Melena.

"Oh! Sing it! Sing it! Please sing it!" Nessa pleaded at once.

"Yes! Please? Were you going to sing it?" Elphaba echoed Nessa with another rare bout of childish excitement and wonder. Melena only responded by nodding, holding her daughters even closer, and then taking a deep breath in.

"Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found," Melena began. Her daughters, as they drifted off to sleep as if they were dritfing down a river, could alredy envision Aelphaba's ethereal form as the earth and sky met in the waterfall and river, creating the place she'd call home. The water was flowing, powerful and protective, full of magic and life and memory, of pasts and presents and futures.

"In her waters, deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you. Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far or you'll be drowned," Melena continued, and Elphaba and Nessa could both see the saint going to the Other Side, the Other World. But Melena's voice also held caution, water could be dangerous, even to a patron saint of it. But even deeper was another message: _Do not lose sight of yourself as you search the depths._ Aelphaba's waters were a place of peace, solitude and answers, but also of danger to the careless or unworthy tresspasser.

"Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear, and in her song, all magic flows. But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows?" But Aelphaba would always be there for those who needed her. As a saint, it was her greatest pleasure to serve those in need. But they couldn't expect her to do all the work. Kind as Aelphaba was, she was nobody's crutch and still expected her followers to be strong, brave and moral in their own right, no matter how scary the road ahead was. It was her challenge to them, not just to rely on her to save them, but to one day learn how to save themselves. They would have to close their eyes and leap, for Aelphaba would fly beside them, but she would not carry them. But that was the point. Dark times lay ahead of those who wished to walk the holy road, and there would be a time when all had to choose between what was easy and what was right. Would her followers have the strength to choose as she had? She could only hope and test, wait and watch.

And now Elphaba and Nessa both wondered if they would one day find the courage and power to live up to their own potentials. Even if they were both still only kids, they were dreamers, and even _they_ seemed to know that they were both somehow destined for greatness, or that greatness was destined for them. Really, it was true that history belonged to two sisters. And Elphaba, in particular, suddenly felt brave. Even though water terrified her like nothing else, as she listened to Aelphaba's alluring challenge, she suddenly felt strong enough to face the waves and defy gravity itself. One day, she would be destined for greatness! And at her side, Nessa was thinking the exact same thing. She had a lot to overcome too, but she was just as ready and hopeful as Elphaba. She would shape history just as much as Elphaba would, she was determined to!

"Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a mother full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. Where all is lost, then all is found..." Melena finished. Aelphaba, as a symbol of resurrection, was full of memory, and although no one knew it yet, the girl named in her honor would become one as well someday. After all, a witch never truly died, not forever. They always came back, somewhere and somehow. Like a pheonix rising from the ashes, a witch always returned, and when she did, those who loved her could only hope she would come back homeward bound, just as Aelphaba had the first time she ever emerged from that waterfall. But only after a long period of losing and being lost would the answers and truth and happiness be found.

Elphaba had been named in honor of Aelphaba not just for the religious aspect, but for the hope that she would be like her namesake and find the courage to endure the loss and come back around to the place where, once again, all would be found. In so many ways, Elpbaba and her namesake were kindred spirits and their memories would eventually become one.

But just for that moment, lying in Nessa's bed with Melena tucking her and her sister in, everything was perfect and already at peace. Even if that paradise would not last, just for that moment, Elphaba felt ready and brave enough to face the river and cross to the Other Side. She had fallen asleep mere seconds after Melena finished the lullaby, but she was already dreaming of things in the past and future, of water and witches, of suffering and resurrection, and at her side, Nessa was thinking the same thing. Even if her story was destined to go another way, Nessa would one day change the face of Oz as well. It seemed as if history belonged to two sisters, but only time would tell how that history unfolded. For that night, though, there was nothing for Elphaba and Nessa but the sweet release of a deep sleep, Aelphaba's song echoing in both of their ears and dreams.

**AN: elphiegranger2508, here's your Thropp/Arendelle-family parallel fic based on Frozen 2. (Would we call them Throppendelles? JK, LOL). This was way longer than it was supposed to be, but oh well. Hope you like! **

**I didn't realize how many similarities Elphaba and Frex had until writing this, and you could almost see the failed Frex/Melena romance as a dark outcome of what Gelphie might have been, had Glinda joined Elphaba on her quest for glory. I mean, Glinda's got shades of Melena and Elphaba is basically Frex without the religious zealotry. **


End file.
